


Taking Time

by mystiri1



Series: SOLDIER Days [1]
Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Community: areyougame, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-04
Updated: 2010-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genesis has wanted this a long time, and he's not going to rush it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Time

Sephiroth was in a weird mood. It was probably unfortunate that Angeal was back in Midgar while they were in Junon, Genesis thought, because he would likely have coaxed the cause out of the silver-haired young man, and cheered him up, or something. But Genesis was the last person Sephiroth was going to have a heart-to-heart with, which made it even stranger that he’d asked Genesis where to find the nearest bar then dragged him along to drink with him.

They were more likely to end up sniping at each other than exchanging confidences. A pity, because Genesis’ first thought on seeing the other was _How beautiful,_ followed quickly by _I want that_. To be perfectly honest, his first thought had actually been, _Is that a girl?_ And he was grateful he’d refrained from speaking it, or he likely would never have survived the encounter. But Sephiroth had proved difficult to seduce, despite two years of trying – he didn’t react like normal people, and they’d somehow ended up in a constant state of verbal warfare instead.

The problem was that they were total opposites in personality. Angeal had often joked that Genesis was well-suited to the red in his hair: passionate, hot-tempered, a creature of fire and emotion. And in demeanour, Sephiroth was just as cold as the silver-white sheen of his hair suggested. He had a temper, yes, but when Sephiroth was angry, he went cold. Those green eyes of his would take on an icy look, and his voice would chill to arctic tones, but he was always coolly rational, methodical in his words and actions.

That was usually why they clashed: Genesis’ impatience with his careful ways. Sephiroth could make quick decisions when necessary, but he never went into a battle without a plan – or three. The redhead was inclined to more impulsive actions, following his feelings and not some coldly rational logic.

He wasn’t really sure what logic had led them here, though.

‘Here’ was a seedy-looking waterfront bar, where Genesis nursed a glass of indifferent cleanliness while Sephiroth drank the fourth bottle of ‘the strongest liquor this dump has’. He’d given up on the glasses halfway through the second bottle, and was now taking large mouthfuls directly from the bottle. Anybody else would have been comatose by now, as its label proclaimed it to be 80% alcohol. He watched as Sephiroth tilted his head back, throat working, as he swallowed down the last of that bottle, too.

When he lowered it, it was to stare at the label, with its Replicon logo and bold claims of potency, with a delicate sneer. “It appears my ‘unique biology’,” the words dripped with disdain, “is not going to allow me to get absolutely shit-faced drunk.”

Genesis blinked. He didn’t know Sephiroth knew how to swear, although if you considered they were both in a military organisation, it would have seemed obvious. He tried to avoid it himself; there was something very crude about having to resort to such terms to express his feelings, and he did not like to think of himself as crude. But it sounded incredibly attractive coming from those perfect lips, and he wondered what he would sound like speaking other obscenities.

Genesis was jarred out of his fantasies when Sephiroth asked him, “What other things do people do when they want to just forget everything and not think for awhile?”

“Well,” Genesis said, startled, “some people use drugs -” Sephiroth snorted, although it was hard to tell whether this was in disdain for drug-users, or the drugs themselves. “And there’s always meaningless sex.”

To his astonishment, Sephiroth cocked his head to the side, apparently considering this. Then he nodded, and stood.

“Sex, I can do,” he announced. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Genesis blinked. Then he looked down at the glass before him – half-full, the contents taken from the first bottle Sephiroth had purchased and barely touched since – to try and determine whether perhaps _he_ was drunk, but it appeared not. And Sephiroth, as he walked towards the door, was moving with his usual effortless grace. Those green cat’s eyes, which turned to him with an impatient look when he didn’t immediately follow, seemed clear and rational. Although usually people didn’t approach sex with the same determined focus they did a mission.

“Are you coming?” Sephiroth asked.

A dozen witty retorts lingered on the tip of Genesis’ tongue, but they were all stifled by the thought, _If I don’t screw this up, I’m going to be having sex with Sephiroth when we get back to the hotel,_ and he simply answered, “Yes.”

* * *

  
They were sharing a suite, which had initially sounded like a recipe for bloodshed, especially were the bathroom was concerned. Now it seemed like a stroke of brilliance. Genesis steered them towards his room as he knew he had the necessary items with him. Angeal often gave him a hard time about it, but even on a mission, Genesis was unused to going without certain attentions. It was hardly his fault that people were willing to do anything to be with him, was it?

He’d unpacked quite thoroughly on arrival, as he disliked living out of a duffle bag or suitcase. So the lubricant was stashed in the top drawer of the nightstand, along with a copy of _Loveless_ and the reading glasses he was too vain to use in public. (After all, it was only when he was tired his eyes gave him difficulty.)

He turned to see Sephiroth stripping off his long coat with all the brisk efficiency of someone having their latest physical, and before he could stop himself, he complained, “You’re doing it wrong.”

Sephiroth froze.

Genesis cursed his impulsive tongue. ‘Doing it wrong’ equated to failure in Sephiroth’s mind, and he was sensitive on the subject of failure. Angeal said it was because of his upbringing, and even Genesis was willing to admit that the idea of what Hojo would do to someone when they didn’t meet his expectations was scary. One of these days, he’d learn to think before he spoke with Sephiroth, but the other man had a tendency to prick at his pride, his temper, his libido – none of which gave themselves to well-thought out statements, even if he could still sound as eloquent as always.

It was the last that had prompted his remark. It was true that he’d had fantasies of a quick, hard fuck with Sephiroth, where hormones and urgency took over so that clothes were torn or discarded or even just shoved out of the way - after a fight or a practice match, perhaps, their blood running hot with adrenaline and aggression, so that they just went for each other, right there and then. In those fantasies he was on the top, of course. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be tonight, but if it got Sephiroth in his bed he’d cope. But right now, it looked like he might have managed to sink his chances of even that.

Genesis could see the coolness settling over Sephiroth’s face, eyes turning icy cold, and he stood to move closer.

“Don’t stop,” he urged, hoping it would be enough. “Just slow down a little. Some things should be... savoured.” His hands moved to the harness Sephiroth wore, loosening the straps and sliding them down rather than removing them completely. It gave his hands a chance to glide over the other’s chest and arms in the process. “When undressing for a lover, you should make a show of it,” he added lightly.

“You make a show of everything,” Sephiroth said with a smirk, but the words lacked the bite of their usual sharp exchanges, and his eyes drifted half-closed at the caress of Genesis’ hands on his body, heading tilting back just a little.

It was an invitation Genesis couldn’t resist. He bent forward to place his lips against soft flutter of Sephiroth’s pulse. It was strong and steady until he parted his lips and sucked, just a little, the lightest of pressures; then he felt the sudden hitch of breath and the beat in his mouth sped up. Encouraged, he set his mouth to exploring that smooth column of flesh further, licking and nipping and sucking. There was no stubble to render it uneven and rough. Genesis wondered if that was because he hadn’t grown any yet, although it always gave him a start to think of Sephiroth as a teenager. He looked more ageless than young, and acted as if he were older. Perhaps the ‘unique biology’ Sephiroth referred to so bitterly had something to do with it.

Smooth, pale skin, long silver hair and those eyes, so fierce and exotic. Anybody else would have been horribly vain, but Sephiroth seemed to consider it just another sign of how different he was. Genesis didn’t consider ‘different’ to be such a drawback, and wondered if he could convince Sephiroth to see it that way, too. It would be nice if a sincerely-meant compliment didn’t draw a hostile response all the time. And perhaps then he would be able to enjoy this more often.

His hands slid into silver hair – so cool and silky beneath his touch, a contrast to heated skin – while his teeth found the soft lobe of Sephiroth’s ear and closed on it firmly, tugging. That dragged a moan from somewhere deep within him, and Genesis made note of it for future reference, because he certainly wasn’t going to settle for doing this only once.

Then suddenly Sephiroth’s hands were catching at him, fingers closing around his upper arms and pushing him back. Genesis opened his eyes, protest forming on his lips, but Sephiroth had a confident smirk, and his eyes were still heavy-lidded, the pupils wide and almost round in their dilation.

“I believe I’d prefer to undress you,” he announced.

Genesis had forgotten that he still wore his own heavy coat until Sephiroth slid it off his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a heavy sound, and he thought that he really should pick it up, hang it properly – but Sephiroth’s hands were running over his chest, working along the lines of the of his own combat harness, plucking at the fabric of the vest he wore beneath to prevent it chafing his skin.

“You wear too many clothes,” Sephiroth complained.

“Not all of us go around showing off our bare chests to the masses,” Genesis retorted.

“You think I should wear one of these things?” Sephiroth snorted. “They’re too hot.”

He unsnapped the catches holding the harness and armour in place, and deftly stripped them away. Then he placed his hands at the bottom of the vest and slowly slid them upwards, under the fabric. He watched with half-lidded eyes as his fingers explored the planes of Genesis’ stomach, finding the ridges and valleys of hardened muscle and tracing them. They made their way upwards, to the bottom of his ribs, pushing the vest with them.

Genesis watched Sephiroth’s face as he touched him. It wasn’t just pleasure or desire he saw there, but something else. Something between fascination and wonder. Had he never touched anybody like this before, for the sheer pleasure of it? He was quite sure he wasn’t Sephiroth’s first, but had none of his other lovers ever taken their time?

Not content to wait, he reached out his own hands to splay against that lean, muscled chest, and let the move across smooth flesh in long, languid strokes. He was intrigued by the way the man subtly leaned into each touch, so that he almost expected him to purr, but Sephiroth never lost his focus. Regardless how he reacted, he was still in control. Those long-fingered hands tugged the vest over his head and continued to explore. And when Genesis found himself being lowered to the bed with easy strength, he thought Sephiroth being in control wasn’t such a bad thing.

Boots and pants were stripped away, hands and mouth wandering the length of his legs, all the way to his feet and up again. He found himself on his stomach while Sephiroth investigated the planes of his back, shuddered as he felt teeth close on flesh, sucking gently. He heard the snap of a lid as Sephiroth availed himself of the supplies he’d retrieved from the nightstand earlier, hissed as he felt a finger, cool with lubricant, brush against his entrance and rub there gently. Then it pressed inwards, and he moaned.

Sephiroth prepared him with all the thoroughness he gave a mission, slow, easy strokes inside him, first with one finger then with two. By the third, Genesis had to bite his tongue to keep from begging, although he thought the way he squirmed and pushed back against them was probably telling enough. Why had he encouraged Sephiroth to go _slow_ , of all things?

When the fingers withdrew, and he could hear the slick sounds of lube being applied to hard flesh, he rolled over onto his back. Again he caught the flicker of surprise, hesitation, uncertainty on Sephiroth’s face as his hand stilled in his movements – long fingers wrapped around a long, hard cock that seemed just as perfect as every other inch of him, Genesis thought hungrily.

“This way,” Genesis said, his voice low and rough, nothing like his usual smooth tones. “I want to see you.” And he did. He wanted to see all that power, that strength as it moved inside him. But most of all, he wanted to see that face, which told him things he was certain Sephiroth had never intended to share with anyone, least of all him. He spread his legs and raised his knees in invitation. When Sephiroth moved between them, he wrapped his legs around lean hips and arched up into that first thrust.

It was every bit as wonderful as he’d imagined. Genesis let his arms reach up to curl around Sephiroth, let his hands run up and down that muscled back, revelling in the way they rippled with each thrust. The way long silver hair fell around them, clinging to skin damp with sweat. The way Sephiroth’s eyes dilated even wider until they were almost all pupil, lashes nearly hiding them from view. The way even those pale cheeks took a slight flush. The heated, not-quite coherent sounds of urgency and pleasure that escaped both of them as the pace grew quicker, fiercer. The way Sephiroth’s tongue darted out to wet his lips between panted breaths.

That last was it for Genesis. He tightened his embrace around his silver-haired lover, pulling him down as his head rose up, claiming those lips with desperate hunger, biting, sucking. And suddenly Sephiroth’s movements were no longer controlled but hard, fast, powerful as he plunged into him. It was only a matter of time before they both stiffened, bodies tensing in ecstatic pleasure, hoarse cries mingling along with sweat and semen.

Genesis listened to his heart thudding almost painfully against his ribcage as he waited for his body to regain the ability to move. He felt like he’d been through a battle, or one of the marathon training sessions Sephiroth sometimes insisted on. He turned his head to glance at the clock on the nightstand, giving a silent laugh as he saw the time the glowing digits revealed. It was much later than when they’d started this, whatever this was. Telling Sephiroth to take his time might have driven him to heights of frustration, but there were worse things than having a perfectionist for a lover.

Still, next time _he_ was going to stroke and kiss Sephiroth all over, because it was clear that the other man was unused to touches that were neither rough nor clinical. And his response to them was so very intoxicating.

So it was more than just the cool air hitting damp skin that sent a cold rush through him when Sephiroth pulled away. As the other man moved off of him, simply laying on the other side of the bed for now, Genesis could see him already putting the usual distance between them, and he wasn’t having that. No doubt the next thing the other SOLDIER did would be to return to his own room.

In a blatant invasion of personal space, Genesis moved over, snuggling close in beside him. Skin pressed against damp skin in a contact that no longer had anything to do with sex, and was somehow far more intimate for that. The sheer amount of heat Sephiroth gave off drew a pleased little hum from him, and he ignored the way the body he was holding onto was stiff with sudden tension.

He let one hand rest on the other’s chest, just over the heart that was already returning to its usual slow, steady pace. Fingers moved in the smallest of caresses before stilling.

There was a sound that might have been a sigh, and he felt Sephiroth relax.

Genesis smiled. Tonight’s activities had handed him one of the keys to the silver-haired man, even if he'd never learned the cause of Sephiroth's strange mood, and he intended to take advantage of that. He wasn’t waiting another two years to do this again.


End file.
